


Of Bleachers and Heartache

by unfoldingbliss



Category: Ever After High
Genre: F/F, Gen, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 14:07:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13148256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfoldingbliss/pseuds/unfoldingbliss
Summary: “Well, you were right,” Faybelle sighed, curling her fingers over her knees. “As much of a hassle as it is for me to admit, I’m in love to the point of it being nauseating. Every time I see her, I want to simultaneously run into her arms and plunge myself into the nearest pond. I can barely sleep, I hardly eat – being in love is exhausting.”To emphasize her turmoil, Faybelle slapped her hands against her face, her fingers dragging over her eyelids. Ramona snorted, her melancholic mood abruptly lifted, “You don’t have to play up the melodrama, but it helps.”





	Of Bleachers and Heartache

Faybelle discovered, soon after her adventure through jagged ice and endless snow, that close and prolonged proximity to Briar Beauty provoked a slew of bodily reactions she was unfamiliar and uncomfortable with.  

If they were eating lunch together, and Briar’s knee brushed against hers as she hoisted herself off the table, Faybelle’s stomach would flop. The sudden urge to engulf large quantities of air and dry-heave in the bathroom consumed her until Briar was well on the other side of the cafeteria, browsing the afternoon’s dessert platter. Faybelle kept poised as the rest of their peers continued to chat and laugh with one another, but her head would spin, and Briar’s long brown tresses and big, brown eyes would waft over her vision.  

If they were in class, and the teacher called on Briar to answer the question, Faybelle’s heart would jump at the sound of her voice, pleasant and full and  _strong_. Even if the answer was incorrect, and even if Briar was nervous, her words almost seemed to press into the back of Faybelle’s neck, cascading over her shoulders and down the hollow of her spine. And if it was Faybelle’s turn to speak, she’d take her time standing up, flipping her hair to one side as she felt Briar’s eyes take her in. Faybelle knew it was more out of exasperation than adoration (since, even before her newest obsession, Faybelle loved to gloat about her perfect answers), but she liked to pretend that Briar was entranced by her glittering skin and flirtatious smirk. That her heart hammered and jittered whenever Faybelle spoke. That her skin flared when they brushed shoulders in the hallway, or that her throat tightened at the mere thought of kissing her.  

Faybelle had always wanted Briar. Before, she had wanted her as a tool, someone that would restore her family’s prestige and legacy. When Briar flirted with rebellion, Faybelle seethed, and mocked Briar at any opportunity she could. If Briar did not want to live out her destiny, Faybelle would have nothing. Her family’s legacy would tarnish and rust until it crumbled to ash, the Dark Fairy no more terrifying than three little pigs and their house of bricks. For Faybelle to succeed and restore her family’s stolen honor, Briar had to prick her finger, whether she wanted to or not.  

But then, once the Storybook of Legends was unbound, and every princess, hero, and villain was given the opportunity to choose who and what they wanted to be—Briar’s perspective shifted. She was no longer tied to her story, to the destiny she had been promised and expected to uphold. Because she had the choice, because she didn’t have to… 

Briar’s destiny enticed her once more. And that meant Faybelle, if Briar decided her destiny was what she wanted, would be the villainess to her tragic damsel. The fairy who would bewitch Briar, forcing her to slumber for a hundred years, waiting for her prince of dreams to capture her lips with his own.  

And Faybelle—the fairy who had always wanted to restore her family’s villainous prestige, the girl who had seen Briar as nothing more than a pretty obstacle in her path towards redemption—was unsure if now, she could ever let that be.  

If only that dream had been a dream. If only she had gloated as Briar succumbed to the power of the spindle, watched her collapse onto the dark floor, and relish in her victory. If only she hadn’t felt compelled to take Briar by her wrists, heart bursting with foreign feelings of adoration and compassion, and whisked the spindle away. If only her head hadn’t buzzed with delight as Briar took in the glittering pink encapsulating them, warm joy radiating off her skin and dazzling smile. If only after they had woken up, Briar hadn’t looked to Faybelle and grinned, confirming they had dreamed together—that what they wanted was the same.  

Neither wanted to play their part. Briar did not want to wait. And Faybelle—for all her snide remarks, victorious smirks, and playful tricks—could not be the one to undo Briar’s life and dreams.  

And in the absence of wanting Briar as a tool towards eternal infamy, Faybelle discovered what she wanted from Briar (what she might have always wanted) was far less complex.  

Faybelle wanted to lean against Briar as she slept. She wanted to kiss Briar in the hallway. She wanted to gossip and hold hands in the cafeteria line while Briar rolled her eyes, an amused smile giving her away.  

Faybelle wanted Briar. Not as a tool, and not to redeem her family’s honor. She wanted Briar as she was, completely and irrevocably detached from the story they had been destined to perform.  

But nothing was that simple. Least of all with the overdramatic and perfectionist daughter of the Dark Fairy. While she was sure Briar knew of the feelings stewing in Faybelle’s chest since their return to Ever After High, Faybelle was at a loss if Briar felt the same. Reconciling with one’s villain was one thing—dating and  _falling in love_ with them was another. And even if Briar was one of the first Royals to doubt their destiny and the happiness it could bring, Faybelle did not believe those doubts extended to romantic entanglements with her narrative opposite.  

Even if their dream had not been a dream, even if Briar had smiled like all her wishes had been fulfilled—that didn’t make it  _real_.  

Exasperated and befuddled by her predicament, Faybelle had taken to moping on the stadium bleachers during her free period. She watched the freshmen try to fill in their gangly arms and wobbly legs and wondered if there was a way she could travel back in time—when she was a lanky fifteen-year-old fairy with a grudge to carry and a destiny to reclaim. What would that Faybelle tell her if she caught her now, head in hand, heart squeezing as she fantasized about Briar combing her fingers through shimmering white hair? 

_“Disgusting!”_  she’d yell, black smoke emitting from her fingertips and threatening to encase her entire body. _“And shouldn’t you be practicing your cheers? Being a sappy, lovestruck fool shouldn’t prevent you from doing a couple of cartwheels!”_

“Yeah, yeah—lay off,” Faybelle sighed to her imagined doppelgänger. But, she was probably right. If she was going to lounge around the stadium and stew in her heartache, the least she could do is go through some cheer drills. Unenthusiastically maybe, but it would get the job done.  

As she prepared herself to stand however, a low, rich voice entered her space, and chunky leather boots pounded against the concrete steps behind her.  

“So, you got it bad too, huh?”  

Faybelle pursed her lips, taking a single breath before turning her head to take in the newcomer. Not that that was required. Faybelle could tell by the gravelly snicker which student had dared to approach her.  

Plenty of people cowered at the power of the Dark Fairy. And plenty more cowered at the sight of the Big Bad Wolf.  

“What do you want, Ramona?” Faybelle asked, eyes narrowed and agitation rustling against her throat. While casting a spell on a fellow villain was out of the question, Faybelle could make it known Ramona’s disruption to her lovelorn solitude was greatly unappreciated.  

A single, barking laugh escaped Ramona before she settled onto a bleacher seat an aisle above Faybelle’s. She leaned her back against the aisle behind her and dragged her arms until her fingers curled onto the seat’s steel frame. “Can’t stand a little company, fairy dust? I thought someone as melodramatic as you would want to talk about the little vixen who stole your heart.”  

Faybelle’s eyes widened, and she sneered, “Hey—how do you even know it’s a–” 

Ramona met Faybelle’s stare, her brows smooth and face devoid of any witty comeback, “Faybelle.  _Please_.” 

Her words caught Faybelle off-guard, and she tore her gaze away, fixing her eyes on the stadium railing instead. She tried to keep up her typical haughty attitude, but her next words came out small, even soft, “Wow, am I that obvious?” 

“Nah, I don’t think so,” Ramona said behind her. “I can just pick up on the signs since, you know, I’m in the same boat. Fell for someone out of my league and on a whole other plane of existence. Not that I mind—she’s not a bad person to fall in love with.”  

Again, Faybelle was taken aback. Did Ramona just admit she was in love with someone?  _The_  Ramona Badwolf? A villain who terrorized the population of Ever After High not only because she could, but because she thought it was fun? 

But, more importantly… 

“Why are you telling me this?” Faybelle turned her head back towards Ramona. Her eyes were now on the field, looking to the freshmen preparing for a 100-meter dash. “You and I… we have class together, but we don’t talk. Do you really trust me to keep such a bombshell secret to myself?”  

Ramona kept her stare on the field, and took a deep breath before providing Faybelle with an answer, “I guess if I had thought this through, I shouldn’t. You’re probably the last person on this campus besides that Blondie chick to share a secret with. But, well, misery loves company, and I thought…” 

The werewolf scrunched up her nose, and her mouth twisted into a snarl. Her long, white fangs glinted in the sunlight, and had Faybelle been any less capable, she was sure she would be afraid. “Ugh, you know what? Forget it—I shouldn’t have come here. Have fun feeling sorry for yourself.” 

As Ramona picked herself up and was about to dash off the bleachers, Faybelle felt panic topple past her neck and over her shoulders. Here was someone who understood her predicament, who knew what it was like to be in love with someone so impossible that her heart was nearly bursting out of its seams. Until now, Faybelle had kept this all to herself—not even Duchess knew of her plight, though she was sure her best friend would listen. But no one, she believed, could know what this felt like, what it meant to be in love with someone who could never be yours.  

But then Ramona came along, and it was like a beacon, a sign of some sort that Faybelle would be so completely foolish to bat away.  

“Wait, Ramona!” Faybelle threw her arms out towards Ramona’s legs, one of her hands catching onto the heel of her leather boot. “I’m sorry—you know how I am! Stay and, and—we can both talk about our big fat lesbian crushes together!”  

Ramona stiffened at her words and fixed her eyes onto Faybelle’s. She tilted her head, her haunting yellow eyes bordering on murderous. Quickly, Faybelle followed up, “Uh, pretty please? If you want to?” 

The villainess above her took another moment before she rolled her eyes and relented, signaling to Faybelle to release her hand. Faybelle obeyed, and this time, Ramona took the bleacher seat to Faybelle’s right and wove her long fingers together. “You know, I wasn’t sure I was a lesbian until I fell for her.” 

“Oh, really?” Faybelle cocked her head to the left, more unexpected words escaping Ramona’s mouth. While they didn’t speak to one another, Faybelle had assumed Ramona was the type of girl who knew everything about herself, sexuality included. Hearing her be unsure of anything was pretty remarkable. “I kind of always knew, I guess. Boys never interested me the ways girls did. But I can see what you mean—I’ve never been in love like this either.”  

Ramona chuckled, “Good to know. Still, I came here because—don’t ask me why—I’ve seen you doing nothing over here. Absolutely nothing, and even I know that’s so unlike you. Call it a wolf’s intuition, but I suspected you might be having the same problem as I was. And that maybe, I could help you.”  

“Well, you were right,” Faybelle sighed, curling her fingers over her knees. “As much of a hassle it is for me to admit, I’m in love to the point of it being nauseating. Every time I see her, I want to simultaneously run into her arms and plunge myself into the nearest pond. I barely sleep, I hardly eat—being in love is  _exhausting_.”  

To emphasize her turmoil, Faybelle slapped her hands against her face, her fingers dragging over her eyelids. Ramona snorted, her melancholic mood abruptly lifted, “You don’t have to play up the melodrama, but it helps.”  

“Yeah, well,” Faybelle shrugged her shoulders, her mood lightening alongside Ramona's. This was nice—it was nice talking to Ramona. “So, do you know who it is?” 

Ramona clucked her tongue and shook her head, leaning back into the aisle behind them. She crossed her arms, strumming her fingers against her lean biceps. “Don’t know you that well. Got a couple of ideas though—it’s gotta be someone you hang around with at least. Gotta be someone who’s super cutesy and proper… oh, and definitely one of those princess-types. Definitely not a villain.” 

Faybelle blinked, and she parted her lips, her chest shuddering underneath her clothes. “For someone who doesn’t know me well, you sure hit the nail on the head. You got any guesses, then?” 

“Let me think…” Ramona trailed and lifted her head to the sky, her brows furrowed in slight concentration. When she thought of a name, her lips curved into a smirk, and she turned her head back towards Faybelle. “Apple?” 

“Ugh, you’re not even trying,” Faybelle said, sticking her tongue out in mock disgust. “Apple’s much too prim and proper for me to consider.”

“Okay, what about Ashlynn?” Ramona guessed again. 

“She’s pretty, but she’s definitely not impossible—she’s in-love with the opposite of Prince Charming.”  

“Maybe Holly?” 

“So totally boring—what does she even do all day?” 

“Nina?” Ramona inched closer to Faybelle, the guessing game appealing to her playful nature.  

"Oh, you know what, she’s adorable," Faybelle replied, recollecting the girl's rich brown skin and bold, green eyes. "Maybe I could think about dating her if I ever get over this."

“Ha, you’re funny. Anyway—Farrah?” 

“Not a princess, but more importantly—gross! I have standards, you know.”  

“Meeshell? Rosabella?” 

“No, and a definite no.” 

“But that just leaves Duchess, and I know you’re not the type to fall for your best friend,” Ramona frowned, pushing off the bleachers behind them and folding her hands into the space between her legs. “And also…” 

As realization dawned upon Ramona, Faybelle bit her lip, her stomach unsettled and her face hot. Someone... someone would finally know. And while it rattled Faybelle, as Ramona blinked and her eyes betrayed her sympathy, it was also a relief.  

“That is an impossible kind of love, huh?” Ramona finally said. “To be in love with  _your_  princess—that’s rough, buddy.” 

“Yeah, yeah—I know,” Faybelle didn’t want to wallow. But this wasn’t the kind of love she could gush about to all of her friends (well, if she had any friends). Ramona knew, and that was good enough. “It happened after we got back during that whole Ice King tirade, and now I’m stuck with all this want in me. And I’m pretty sure she knows too and–” 

“Wait,” Ramona’s ears perked up, their soft fur brushing against her long brown hair. “You think she knows?” 

“Umm, yeah?” Faybelle replied, unsure why Ramona seemed so surprise by her admission. “I mean, we had this dream together where we held hands and I destroyed the spindle that would put her to asleep–” 

Ramona interrupted her again, her face even more flabbergasted, and the whole of her body completely locked onto Faybelle’s. “You had a dream,  _together_? You held hands, and you were the person who broke her curse?” 

Faybelle pulled her head back, feeling on edge. Ramona’s mouth was open, her brows spun together, her nose flared… she kind of looked stupid, really. But it was, unexpectedly, making Faybelle feel dumb, as if there was something she wasn’t grasping from the information she had already unveiled. “Uh, yeah? And you should really get that look off your face before someone takes a picture. Most likely candidate: me.”  

“Faybelle…” Ramona trailed, steeling herself for whatever she was about to stay. She held out her arm until she grabbed onto Faybelle’s shoulders, her claws clutching onto her skin  _just_  a tad more than necessary. “There’s no other way to tell you this, but: I think Briar is waiting for you.” 

“What?” Faybelle almost tried to pull away from Ramona’s grip, but considering her superhuman strength and the fact that her nails could leave some gnarly scars, she thought against it. Still, now it was Faybelle’s turn to appear incredulous, body shuddering at Ramona’s words. “Briar’s waiting for me? As if, Ramona—a dream is a dream, even if it’s dreamt together. It wasn’t real. She doesn’t want me.” 

“But, why wouldn’t she?” Ramona pushed, her free hand curling into a fist. “I overheard Ashlynn talking to Cerise about those dreams—she said they were about her deepest fantasies, the things she's wanted more than anything else. The same applies to you and Briar. If your deepest fantasy is to prevent Briar from touching the spindle, and you both had the same dream–” 

“Then Briar’s deepest fantasy is for me to break her curse,” Faybelle finished for Ramona, her hands hovering above her mouth, her fingers brushing her lips. She had already known this—she had known what they both wanted, that neither one could play their parts.  

And still, she had been so blind—they had shared that dream, they had shared those feelings. And what Faybelle had felt the most in that dream, what had warmed her body and seeped into her bones—

_“That dream was pretty warm, huh?” Briar said, offering  Faybelle  a cheerful smile. “It almost felt like summer! Too bad we couldn’t stay in there forever.”_

_“Forever? Surrounded by a wall of pink and you for company?”  Faybelle  gagged, dismissing Briar’s notion even as her  neck   flushed  at the memory._

_Briar shrugged, her smile only widening and setting  Faybelle’s  chest on fire. “I wouldn’t mind. It would have been nice to sit and relax for a while.”_

“She likes me,” Faybelle admitted, a smile spreading itself onto her face. All those times she had bumped into Briar, every time Briar looked in her direction—all that time, she had felt the same way. Faybelle had just been too blinded by her personal pity party to notice it. 

“I think ‘love’ is the word you’re looking for,” Ramona pointed out, a smile of her own making its way onto her lips. However, the gesture didn’t seem to match the look in her eyes. “Glad I could be of help.” 

“I…” Faybelle trailed, unsure of how to continue their conversation. More than anything, she wanted to find Briar and demand why she didn’t confront her about her feelings first. But, that meant Ramona would be alone, left with her feelings unresolved and unrequited. Again. “Thank you, Ramona.” 

Ramona snorted, and she scratched the brim of her nose. “Whoa, now that’s definitely unlike you—the daughter of the Dark Fairy, thanking me? I’ve never been so honored.” 

“Please, I could afford some gratitude every now and again,” Faybelle stood up, fluttering her wings as she prepared for her departure. There was one minor detail she wasn’t sure of, however. “So, who’s the lucky girl who snagged your heart? If it's Briar, then sorry to say, she’s all mine.” 

“Don’t worry. Despite being a big bad, stealing hearts ain’t something I like to dabble in,” Ramona replied as she closed her eyes, and an unguarded smile graced her lips. “But she is a princess, and she didn’t make that little guessing game.” 

Faybelle pursed her lips and stroked her chin, allowing her wings to life her off the bleachers. Glitter flew into the air and dusted Ramona’s hair and clothes. “Huh, really? But that only leaves–” 

Faybelle gasped, and if it wasn’t for Ramona’s glare, she would have screeched the name out loud. Instead, her voice came out as a whisper, just loud enough for Ramona and anyone else with wolf ears in a 20-foot radius to hear. “You’re in love with your roommate? Justine?”  

“Yeah,” Ramona chuckled, as if she was just as relieved as Faybelle to tell someone about her dilemma. “I got good taste, don’t I?” 

“You know, actually you do!” Faybelle agreed, clapping her together. “She’s pretty stellar, and a great dancer, obviously.” 

“Don’t let Duchess hear you say that,” Ramona teased. “Or you’d be in big BFFA trouble.” 

“Yeah, I would be,” Faybelle nodded her head, offering a Ramona a playful smirk. When Ramona returned it, Faybelle warmed. But this warmth was different—it wasn’t brought upon by feelings of adoration or love, but rather through admiration and camaraderie. Ramona was a kindred spirit—an outcast in love with a star. And Faybelle hoped that she, too, would catch the star she so dearly cherished. “You know, once Briar and I confess our undying feelings for each other or whatever, you and I should  _definitely_  continue this conversation. And hey—maybe we can double date!”  

“Oh, believe me, fairy dust—I wasn’t letting you off the hook that easy,” Ramona replied, throwing her hands behind the back of her head. “And I’m not giving up on my dream any time soon.” 

Faybelle nodded, and punched the air, determined. “Glad to hear it. Now, would you like a little cheer before I–” 

“No.” 

“Aww, you didn’t let me finish!” Faybelle pouted, unperturbed by the yellow eyes drilling holes into her skull. “Whatever, your loss. See you later, foxy!”  

“Hey, wolves and foxes are two completely different animals!” Ramona growled, though the threat in her voice lacked its usual bite. Faybelle laughed and sped off, hoping she could surprise Briar in the hallway with some kind of theatrical, fireworks display. Could land her in detention, but would totally be worth it.  

And unbeknownst to her, Ramona watched Faybelle fly off towards campus, her smile almost glued to her face. Two outcasts in love, becoming friends.  

_It’s nice,_  Ramona thought. And even if Justine rejected her, told her they were too different and worlds apart, Ramona knew she had this. She had a friend.

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the EAH Exchange over on tumblr. My gift is for puff-pink! She likes Faybelle/Briar and Ramona/Justine (as do I), and I thought I could do something with the two of them given their similarities, primarily with both being villain/princess. And, I always thought Faybelle and Ramona would harvest interesting interactions, and I think I pulled off their personalities well. I really hope you enjoy it, Puff!


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